Losing Control (Kerr Chronicles #1)(24)
Author: Jen Frederick

“I’m not joking,” I seethe.

“Hallie is the daughter of a friend, and she needs the volunteer work so she looks well-rounded on her college applications.”

“Seriously?” Forgetting my anger for a moment, I peek into the room and see my mother is completely enthralled. Hallie’s gesturing with her hands and using different voices to bring the story to life. “Is she some kind of theatre major?”

“Not that I know of. I believe she wants to be a doctor.”

“Can’t Hallie read to Mom in the common room?”

“Too disruptive,” he says smoothly.

“How am I going to pay for this?” I say finally because I can’t deny Mom this pleasure, at least not today. Somehow I’ll come up with the money for one day spent in a private room.

“I’ll send you a complete accounting when it’s all done.”

“When do I start?” This is it then. I’m going to do his secret job.

“I can send a car for you immediately and we can go over to the warehouse where I’ll explain what I need from you.”

His home. I think he’s asking me for sex, but I’m not entirely sure. I have nothing to lose by just asking him outright. I know that I’d do a lot of things for my mom but I can’t have sex with Ian for money. I wouldn’t be able to look at myself in the morning. “I thought you didn’t pay for sex.”

I can almost feel the gust of wind through the phone when he sighs. With a touch of exasperation, he says, “I’m trying to do a good deed, and you’re making it out to be something nefarious. Can’t you accept a gift? That’s all that it is.”

“Let’s just say you’re making it easy to resist you right now.”

“Again with the challenges. It’s like you want me to chase you, bunny.”

I hang up before the curse words spill out. I’m sure he’s laughing somewhere in Manhattan.

When we exit the hospital it is no surprise to me that Steve is sitting there in the emergency lane. He immediately jumps out of the car and hurries over to help my mom into the car. When the numbers of the cross-streets get below eighty-six, I lean forward, “You’re going the wrong way.”

He meets my eyes in the rearview mirror and they tell me that I can’t be that stupid. I slide back into my seat. Ian’s taking over my life. We stop outside a new condominium tower in Midtown that was completed last year. I remember hearing about it because it was one of the new developments that had views of Central Park. Steve lifts my mom out of the car and helps her into the elevator. There’s no point in objecting now. I’ll let my mom sleep before I take her home.

The lift stops on the fifteenth floor and we walk to the end of the hall. There are only six doors on this floor. The door to the end unit opens before we reach it—Ian’s just inside the entrance. He’s not wearing his usual uniform of boots and jeans. Today he’s attired in another perfectly-tailored suit. This time, it’s a staid navy-blue paired with a red-and-white checked shirt and a blue-and-white polka-dotted tie. His welcoming smile dies out as we march past him, a row of surly, unhappy soldiers. Well, Steve and I are surly and unhappy. Mom is out of it.

“Where to?” clips Steve. Even Ian only gets a few words. Steve is directed down the hall to the last door. Inside I find a sizable room with a huge bed and a window overlooking Central Park. The view is incredible, but I’m too angry to appreciate it. I help my mother get into bed. She looks bewildered.

“Where are we, Tiny?” Her frail hand grips my arm, and I shoot Ian a furious look. He’s wearing Steve’s default expression now. Impassive, unyielding. I’m thinking that’s his guilty look, the one where he knows he’s gone too far but can’t—or won’t—acknowledge it.

“Shh, Mom, rest. We’ll be back home soon.” I cover her in a soft down comforter with teal and yellow embroidered accents. The whole room looks fresh and inviting but the glare from the windows is too much. After she’s comfortable, I head toward the windows to pull the drapes, but I can’t find a dang cord. I feel along the edges because I can see the shades hanging beneath the curtain valance. A whirring sound startles me and I jump back. The shades start to close, and I turn to find Ian pressing a remote control which he lays carefully on the nightstand.

“Of course,” I fume. “Of course there are f**king automatic blinds. Everyone has them.”

“Language, Tiny,” my mom says in a scolding tone.

I stomp out of the room and both Ian and Steve back away from me. Steve slaps Ian on the shoulder, says, “Good luck, mate,” and leaves.

It’s just the two of us now. I stand at the other side of the starkly modern living room furnished in whites and blacks with splashes of yellow. A long, low-slung sectional sofa is arranged in front of the windows. A large TV hangs to the right and in the corner to the left is a large chair that looks like a giant, scooped-out egg. Upon closer inspection, the windows are actually French doors that lead onto a small balcony. The apartment is good-sized for the city, but it’s cold and impersonal. I can’t be bothered with what it looks like or how it feels because right now I am royally pissed off and Ian knows it.

“I don’t know who you think you are, but you don’t get to appear in my life and then dictate what I eat, where I live, and how I spend my time.” I actually have my mom finger out and I’m waving it at him. I fist my hands and fantasize about popping him one in the arm.

He holds out his hands as if he can stem my barrage of complaints. “I’m trying to make things easier for you. That place you live in now, Christ—” He rubs the back of his neck, one hand on his hip pushing his jacket back and exposing his shirt clad flat stomach.

“You’re a jerk, Ian Kerr. A presumptuous, I-get-what-I-want-no-matter-what jerk.” I stomp down the hall with my pack. I need to change and get ready to go. He’s right behind me. Fine. He wants to watch me change, then f**k it. I drop my pack on the floor and kneel down, pulling out my shoes, athletic socks and leggings. I pull off my jeans, acutely aware that Ian hasn’t moved an inch and that his eyes are all over me. Well, he can look all he wants, but he’s not ever getting in my pants. And I tell him that. “You might as well take a good look because this is the closest you’re ever going to get to seeing me naked.”

Chapter 13

LEANING ONE SHOULDER AGAINST THE wall, he sighs like I’m some tiresome child. “Bunny, what did I tell you about challenging me?”